


Muckraker

by Bounemr



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Could be read as romance if you're so inclined tbh, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-08 00:28:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15231375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bounemr/pseuds/Bounemr
Summary: Hawk Moth was taken down, but it was a quiet thing. Once the heroes took back the butterfly Miraculous, he promised compliance and accepted defeat. But Alya doesn’t trust him and can’t let him go unpunished so she reveals Hawk Moth’s identity to the world despite the obvious consequence: tearing Adrien’s father away from him.





	Muckraker

Alya was not the kind of person who truly deserved to be a hero. She had thought she was, once. Back then, she would have given anything to be a hero, to take down the evil in the world, dismantle everything that it had built and replace it with something good. She knew what was right and wrong. What good and evil were.

But, as in all things, once she really saw the world of heroes it wasn’t quite that simple. And those days of certainty were past.

She missed them, even if she did recognize her past surety as stemming from naiveté. There was something comforting about certainty, something she couldn’t replicate. It was solid and unmoving. Constant. Stubborn, even. But that was what she needed. Something to ground her, to guide her hand when she had no direction.

And in this case, to judge so she wouldn’t have to.

 _“Hawk Moth Identity Revealed.”_ She read silently. Her eyes were strained. She knew the dim glow of her computer screen wasn’t good for her, especially since she hadn’t turned on the lights of her room. But still, she sat in the dark, squinting at the artificial light and wondering again if she was doing the right thing.

It wasn’t like it was an opinion piece. Not really. Her opinions were in it, of course, and she reconsidered that, as well, unsure if perhaps it would be better if she was not quite so scathing. But she couldn’t change it. It was either as it was, or not at all. If she was going to be the one to show Paris the face of their villain, she couldn’t hold back. It wouldn’t sit right, and she thought, or maybe hoped, or maybe prayed, that Adrien could at least respect that. Trying to sugarcoat things would only be disrespectful to him. She couldn’t face him if she took such half-assed measures to try to spare his feelings. It would never be enough, and they both would know it was only a lame attempt to make herself feel better about what she was doing.

But could she just not report it? Could she let Hawk Moth go? Could she abide it? She wanted to. God knows, she wanted to. She didn’t want to be the one who took Adrien’s father from him. But Gabriel was still free, facing no punishment for everything he had done, and Alya knew the question weighed on all their minds.

Nino. He would be distraught over the thought but would undoubtedly do whatever was necessary for Adrien to end up happy. Even if it meant forgiving someone like Gabriel. He had the heart for a second chance, even if he wasn’t at that point just yet. But he would never trust Gabriel. Ever. Alya knew that. She knew that for Nino, who would spend so much more time with Adrien than the rest of them, even Marinette, he wouldn’t be able to lay down his Miraculous. No matter what, he would always be on guard, because his villain was a room or two away and he needed to make sure that Adrien was being treated the way he deserved. Alya could grant him respite, though she didn’t know if the cost would be worth it.

_“The man behind the attacks on the city of Paris, Hawk Moth. He has demonstrated a mysterious power to possess people experiencing negative emotions. With that power, he transforms those victims into supervillains, who have repeatedly wrought havoc upon our city. Though the heroes Ladybug and Chat Noir have always stopped the rampaging victim and cleansed them of Hawk Moth’s power, no one had any idea just who Hawk Moth was, and so we were stuck in a loop of attacks and repairs. But citizens will be relieved to hear that they can now, for the first time in two years, rest easy. Earlier this week, our city’s heroes found and followed up on a lead that led them to Hawk Moth’s lair.”_

Chloé. She was the opposite. Or, perhaps, the same. Ultimately, she did have Adrien’s interests at heart, but she was hardened enough to do what was necessary to remove Gabriel as much as she could from Adrien’s life. She wouldn’t hesitate to click that “post” button and put an end to it, if she had come to the decision to do so. But if he remained free, she, like Nino, would always be living in a war, always prepared for Hawk Moth’s return in a new way. They all would. They all cared too much about Adrien to let their guard down, even if Gabriel didn’t have the butterfly Miraculous anymore. But Chloé didn’t have what it took to create what Alya had. Sure, she could probably turn people against Gabriel, maybe even get him in prison for a time, but she couldn’t provide what Alya could. She couldn’t risk ousting herself, nor did she have the mind to piece together something like Alya’s article. A single post that could overturn everything for them. She wasn’t eloquent enough, and she didn’t know enough, and Gabriel was rich and powerful and unless they had proof of the caliber only Alya could piece together, he would get away.

Chloé’s was the voice telling her to stop being a coward and post it already. Because she had the confidence and certainty that Alya lacked. The certainty that she could do such a thing and come back from it. That she could do such a thing and not damage something between her and Adrien forever. That she wouldn’t damage Adrien forever.

_“Below is an exclusive interview with Rena Rouge about the final battle with Hawk Moth._

_“As suspected, the power that Hawk Moth had demonstrated came from a Miraculous – the very same source of power that our heroes draw from. The climactic battle ended with Ladybug taking back the Miraculous that Hawk Moth had in his possession, unmasking him in the process. Along with an apology for the short delay, Rena Rouge has taken the responsibility of publicly announcing Hawk Moth’s identity.”_

Marinette. She wouldn’t ever come to a decision she could be happy with. That was the primary driving force, aside form Alya own sense of justice, that brought her that far. If she took the decision out of Marinette’s hands, then she could hate Alya for it, she could scream and shout and cry, but she wouldn’t be implicit. She would have her conscience clear, and Adrien would have her. And even if Alya lost everything as she dragged Gabriel through the mud, at least it would be her and only her who would be hurting Adrien. No one else had to know. No one else had to be guilty. If she took the responsibility out of their hands, then Adrien would have friends with him, regardless of the outcome. And he was the one who needed friends the most.

_“The name of the villain who has been plaguing our city’s streets for the last two years, from the lips of one of our heroes: Gabriel Agreste. According to Rena Rouge, Gabriel Agreste was attempting to bring together the Miraculous in order to bring back his wife, Emilie Agreste, who has been presumed dead for nearly four years now. How, exactly, he meant to achieve his goal is still unknown, though we know that it required the power of both the Ladybug and the Cat Miraculous. Rena Rouge is on record saying that ‘measures will be taken to ensure nothing like this ever happens again… The people of Paris no longer have anything to fear from the Miraculous.’ She was unclear when pressed on the question, refusing to say whether that meant our heroes will be giving up their Miraculous, in order to hide them forever, or whether we can count on seeing them all again.”_

Adrien. He was too good, to hopeful, and too close. He just wasn’t capable of pulling the trigger and condemning his own father, and Alya would never put him in that position. That would be too cruel. He wanted to see the best in Gabriel. He wanted to see the good in his father. Alya couldn’t see it, but then, she wasn’t Adrien. She didn’t know Gabriel like Adrien did, nor was she related to him. She couldn’t decide if that really made her any more objective. Still, facts were facts, and Gabriel was Hawk Moth, and the thought of letting Hawk Moth go free, no matter who he was, ground on Alya’s nerves. All it took was the press of a single button. If it wasn’t Gabriel, if it wasn’t Adrien, Alya doubted she would hesitate. If it wasn’t so close, if it wasn’t so personal, the city of Paris would already know. But it was, and that single key held up Adrien’s whole life. It held up the years she’d spent befriending him. It held up every moment shared, every laugh, every smile, every tear. If she pressed it, and all of that came tumbling down, she didn’t know if she would be able to handle it.

_“Rena Rouge has provided details on how to enter Hawk Moth’s lair, a hidden subsection of the Agreste’s family home, and encourages the police to investigate. She also promises to remain available to testify if necessary. Unfortunately, however, I have not been able to get into contact with any of the other heroes, so they are unavailable for comment at the present time.”_

Alya hugged her knees, not attempting to fight against the idle spin of her chair that tore the computer screen from her vision. With a sigh, she pushed her glasses out of the way to rub a hand down her face. _I better tell Adrien. I have to at least warn him. I can do that much. And… it would be better to do that in person._

 _But I can’t put this off. I should post it, then go out right afterwards, so I can’t back down after seeing Adrien. Or, at least, schedule it to go up in a few minutes._ “Trixx.”

“Yeah?”

She spared the kwami a glance. _This is it._ “Last chance to back down.” She said, more for herself, because she knew Trixx was in her boat on this.

He nuzzled into her cheek for a moment. “You do what you need to do. Adrien’ll understand.”

“I’m not sure.” Alya said. She reached behind her and grabbed the desk, spinning back around to face the computer. “But there’s no telling whether Gabriel is really going to stop. Leaving Adrien in that house is dangerous so long as he’s still there.”

“Even if he promised to give up?”

“Do you honestly trust him, Trixx?”

Trixx didn’t answer. He just settled on Alya’s head and watched the computer with her. She’d made the trip from her place to Adrien’s many times. She knew how long it took. So, she scheduled the post to go online only a minute or two after she would arrive. No time for hesitation. No time for turning back.

“Are you ready?” Trixx asked, seeing her mouse hover over the button.

“No.” She said truthfully. “Trixx.”

“Hm?”

“Transform me.”

Alya hit the button before she was even fully transformed and was climbing out the window just as quickly. She was officially on a timer, if she wanted to tell Adrien before he’d get the notification about her post and read it himself.

So, she stole through the city, leaping from the rooftops, on her way to her judgement. Whatever Adrien’s reaction, she decided, she would accept it. And she was scared, but the power surging through her and the ticking of the clock in her mind and the knowledge that things were already in motion spurred her ever forward. She had already done her part, now she only needed to face the consequences with dignity.

She arrived exactly when she planned, and knocked on the window, letting Adrien know she had come. She slipped inside (he, like the rest of them, kept his windows unlocked for just that reason) and Adrien came out of the bathroom not a moment later, yawning as he took in her presence.

Adrien looked tired. But he smiled, a lazy grin, happy to see his friend. “You know,” he said, “I will be fine for one night without one of you coming to check on me.” That smile he gave her was a hand around her heart. It held her so gently, so carefully, but it was cold, and sent a shiver down her spine.

“I’m not here to check on you.” She said. Her voice was strong, confident, certain despite the way her heart quivered. “I’m here to tell you what I’ve done.”

He furrowed his brow and fiddled with the hem of his oversized night shirt. “What you’ve done? What do you…”

_Ding!_

A sharp chime. It sounded like a tap of a bell, but Alya flinched. Adrien didn’t even go to his phone. He pieced together what she was here for from the sound alone. “Oh.”

“I thought you deserved to hear it from me before…” She gestured vaguely to the direction the chime came from. “I didn’t want you to be surprised when you read it.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry, Adrien. I really am. But we can’t let Hawk Moth go free. I had to tell.”

In the course of seconds, it seemed like the bags under Adrien’s eyes grew darker. He curled into himself, no longer standing straight – in fact, he could barely stand at all, and quickly found his bed to sit down upon. “Oh.” He murmured. “I… I unders- underst-”

His breathing sped up, grew more labored. He wiped at his eyes. Alya couldn’t hold back. She rushed over, exchanging a look with Plagg on the way, and sat next to him reaching out to rub his back.

He stood, slipping out of her reach, and she realized she couldn’t comfort him. “That means Dad’s going to be… The police are going to…”

“Yes.” She said. Adrien looked up at her. His eyes were watery and his face contorted and Alya fought the urge to grimace when she looked into his eyes. They shared his pain, shot Alya with a dose of it to give her a small taste of what she had wrought. They shared his thoughts, transcending his weak attempt to spare her. Betrayal. They were eyes hurt by someone he trusted. Whatever the rest of the circumstances, that much was true.

Plagg floated near Adrien, providing the companionship Alya couldn’t. She just turned her eyes to the bedsheets and gripped them in her fist. “Adrien, kid.” Plagg’s voice was clear and strong. “You alright?”

“They’re going to take Dad.” Adrien said. “They’re going to arrest him, and I’ll be all alone.”

“Yeah. They’ll take him alright. But you aren’t going to be alone.” Plagg said. “You’ve got plenty of people looking out for you.”

Alya looked up and found Adrien was staring at her. She bit her lip and looked away. It felt rude to stay, but to leave at that moment, when Adrien was so scared of being alone… _I’m not who Adrien wants right now, but I’m who he’s got. As long as he doesn’t tell me to get lost, I’m not leaving him._

“Why didn’t you tell me? Do the others know?”

Alya closed her eyes. “No. No one knows. I did this on my own. I know you care about him, but he’s a criminal, and I can’t just let a criminal go free. I didn’t tell you before because… I was worried I wouldn’t be able to do it if I had.”

“So, you just made the decision for all of us? How is that better?”

She shook her head. She had no response to that. She knew what she did was selfish. “It’s what I believe was necessary. I’m sorry, really I am, but that’s all there is to it.”

“Plagg… transform me.”

That ripped Alya’s gaze from the bedsheets back to him. She stood, reaching for him, but he backed away. “Adrien, wai-”

“I’m sorry, Alya.” He shook his head. “I can’t… not right now. Please, just… don’t follow me.” He spun and leapt and was out the window before Alya could reply.

 _Damn it._ She collapsed on the bed once more, falling all the way down and throwing an arm over her eyes. _Damn it. I knew this would happen._

 _I can’t go after him, but I can’t just let him go around all alone._ She took a deep breath and held herself together through sheer force of will just long enough to find Adrien’s phone and use it to text the whole crew what had happened.

Trixx left the Miraculous, returning her to her normal, teenage self. No powers, no suit, just an average girl. And Trixx looked at her with big eyes and settled himself in the crook of her neck when she returned to Adrien’s bed and she just laid there, wondering if her friend was going to be okay, unable to do anything to help him but watch as the rest of them mobilized.

She’d stepped out of line more than enough for one night. Pursuing someone it was not her place to comfort was beyond what she was capable of. _I just have to trust the others. I_ do _trust the others._

_I just hate knowing I’m responsible for this._

* * *

 

She woke up with light piercing her eyelids. A muted siren broke her out of her drowsiness and stirred her to sit up, looking around in alarm.

The environment was familiar, though not one she’d been used to waking up to. Adrien’s room. Everything precisely how Adrien had left it.

“Trixx.” She said. Her voice was alert and carried with it her doubt, but neither of the two bothered addressing that. “What’s the situation?”

Trixx moved back from the window to Alya’s side. “The police have just arrived. I’m surprised, I thought it would take a while before they got a warrant.”

“They can’t afford to waste time. Gabriel already has a head start if he wants to get rid of all the evidence.”

“That’s true.”

“And Adrien?”

“Can’t be sure. If he came back, it was while I was sleeping.”

“I see. Thank you, Trixx.”

“Are you ready?”

She chuckled bitterly and shook her head. “Same answer as last time. But it hasn’t stopped me yet, so go ahead and transform me.”

Alya clambered out of Adrien’s window, to the awe of the gathering crowd outside. Alya wasn’t sure exactly why they were gathered around the back of the house, but upon jumping up and over to the front, she got the impression it was simply that there was no space for them where the real action was happening.

The crowd was too massive for how early in the morning it was. When she appeared above the mansion, it only took one reporter catching sight of her and screaming her hero name for the entire crowd to erupt in a writhing mass intent on enveloping her. Alya froze, as if the crowd she normally would have thrived in, would have handled like an old pro, was instead an eldritch horror. Nameless, faceless, too great and too much for the human mind to handle. She could feel herself lose her sanity. Or, any remaining dredges of it.

But this was the consequence of her actions. As a hero, as an older sister, as a journalist, Alya had to face up to it. If she couldn’t survive in the mud, she should never have dragged someone down into it.

She dropped within the line of police, at first, safe for the moment from the crowd. An officer addressed her. She had made all the details public the previous night, so there wasn’t much she could do for the officer, though she did craft a careful lie as to the whereabouts of Gabriel Agreste’s son. “We feared for his safety, and his mental health. Knowing the scene that this would make, I asked him to hide with my fellow heroes.” She said, hoping that what she said was at least half-true. “They put him somewhere safe. We’ll bring him to you when you need him, but we think it would be best if he was kept from the crowd.” She gestured to the screaming people, and the officer seemed to understand.

“Thank you, Rena Rouge.” He said. “It’s kind of you to look out for him.”

It took all of Alya’s control to keep her stoic countenance. Through gritted teeth, she growled, “He doesn’t deserve this. That’s all.”

She spun on her heel and stalked towards the crowd. Up until then, she had always felt a kinship with those reporters. She loved them, because despite their different positions, when she was unmasked she was one of them. She had never been afraid of them before.

She wasn’t even sure why her chest bound itself up and twisted in on itself when she faced the flashes of cameras and teeth and the waving hands vying for her attention. To them, she was a hero. The only one that really changed for was someone who wasn’t there. And yet, he was the only one that mattered.

Someone in the crowd exclaimed, and Alya was just as surprised by the confident and casual cough of the girl who had fallen from the sky and landed next to her. Shoulder to shoulder. Like old times. “Sorry to make you handle this so long on your own, Rena.”

Alya almost teared up. Almost. Seeing Ladybug there – seeing Marinette there – by her side like nothing had changed… it was enough for hope. Alya reached out and grabbed that hope like it was a little scrap of fabric torn from Marinette’s dress. She worried over it, worried that the real beauty would notice and scorn her for the marred gown, but still the fabric was soft and warm under her fingers and it was something to cling to, so she did.

With a forced chuckle, Alya responded much smoother than even she expected. She had gotten too used to subterfuge. “No worries, Ladybug.” She said. “Is Adrien safe?”

Marinette made no obvious recognition of the true nature of her question, but Alya trusted that she understood the double-meaning. She had caught on to Alya’s double-speak long ago.

“Safe.” Marinette said with a nod. “A little frightened, but he’ll be okay.” She spared a glance to the crowd.

Alya let out a relieved sigh. She didn’t try to delude herself into thinking Adrien would forgive her, or want to talk to her, but that was never something she dared hope for. She just wanted him to be okay. If he was okay without the one who ripped his family apart, so be it. And if Marinette said he would be… that much Alya dared hope to be true.

But not there. Not in the multitude of eyes of her dark god. That being was unforgiving and would not spare her weakness. So, she did not accept Ladybug’s comfort. She stood straight, kept her chin up, and acted. It was award-worthy performance. The role of a hero.

“Rena Rouge! You told the Ladyblog that you defeated Hawk Moth four days ago. Why only now did you decide to tell the citizens of Paris?” One reporter wailed.

“Ladybug! Can you comment on Hawk Moth’s identity? Why is Rena Rouge the only one talking to the press?” Another demanded.

“Where are the other heroes?” Another interrogated.

Alya’s eyes scanned the mass. Bodies, pressed and tangled into something beyond themselves. Her eyes fell on a young girl – too young – and she saw how that girl was jostled by the crowd. She saw her fighting valiantly to get to the front, where she could hold up her phone camera and film. She could not get an angle from within the crowd. Her small stature meant she had no hope of getting a shot unless she was in front. Alya figured that, despite the notebook in her hands and the audio recorder taped to her backpack strap (with duct tape – all her equipment seemed somewhat makeshift) she didn’t have any hope of truly getting anything.

At least, not on her own.

Hero be damned. That was a girl after her own heart. And whether that heart wavered or not, she couldn’t hold herself back.

She gave Marinette a glance, just enough to let her know that she knew what she was doing (or at least, to try and convince her of such), and she stepped into the crowd.

“Rena Rouge! Please-”

All of their questions fell on deaf ears. Alya just pushed through the mass, striding purposefully to where her eyes took her.

The little girl met her gaze and trembled. Alya smiled. “Hello there.” She said, raising her voice for the girl to hear over the cacophony. Alya saw the girl’s lips move, but she could not hear the words. Still, her gaze did not fall.

Alya held out a hand for her, and the girl hesitantly took it, and this time when Alya walked through the crowd, it parted for her. The hero was one thing, and it couldn’t be helped anyway, with the density of the crowd, but when people caught sight of the young teenage girl linked to her by the hand, they did all they could not to knock her over.

The girl seemed in shock. When they reached the front of the crowd, as far forward as the police would allow, Alya smiled wordlessly at her and released her hand. That seemed to bring her back to reality. “Oh!” She gasped. “Rena Rouge! Please,” she fumbled with all that was in her hands, fiddled with the strapped-on audio recorder, and faced Alya with a fire in her eyes, “now that Hawk Moth is defeated, what will become of the heroes of Paris?”

 _Forward thinking._ Alya closed her eyes. _That’s good._ “I don’t know.” She chuckled and gave the girl the most earnest smile she could manage. “We’ll be here for Paris as long as Paris needs us. If this means our job is done, then we all have a decision to make. That’s not one I can give an answer to yet. Not without talking to my fellow heroes, and to people like you.”

“Like me?” The girl gasped. “What do you mean?”

“Whether the citizens of Paris even want us is undoubtedly important in what we do next.” Alya answered. “Now, what’s your name?”

“O-oh! Right! Sorry. I’m Amélie Moreau. I… I want to be a reporter! Like Alya! She runs the Ladyblog!”

Alya bit her lip. “I’ve heard of her.”

She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Ladybug grinning at them both. “Well, Amélie. I think that’s a wonderful dream. Alya is definitely someone worth looking up to.”

Alya had to take a step back, lest the swarm spot her weakness. Marinette’s words struck her heart. They found her lungs and made it difficult to breathe. She didn’t think she could maintain her façade much longer.

“Do you have your own blog, Amélie?” Alya wasn’t looking to see the girl’s response to Marinette’s question. “Great. Can you do something for me?”

“Of course!”

“When you post this, send Alya a link to your blog. She’d love to read it.”

“What? I-I couldn’t possibly-”

“It’s only a suggestion. But I know Alya. She’d like you.” Alya met Marinette’s purposeful gaze. “But I’m afraid we can’t linger. We’ll answer one more question.”

The rest of the crowd erupted, trying to get their question the one answered, and little Amélie shrunk even tinier than she was at full height. Marinette grabbed Alya’s arm and held her there and waited patiently, smiling in an almost oblivious way, ignoring the adults completely despite how their volume made Alya want to wince.

And Amélie looked up at them both with stars in her eyes and she set her jaw and her stance and she projected her fragile voice admirably – so Alya could hear her. “Was Hawk Moth acting alone?” She asked. “Did his staff or his son know about him?”

It wasn’t exactly difficult knowledge to come by, but still Alya was proud of her for having the forethought to look up something like whether Gabriel had any family and who would be in the house regularly. Still, the question stung her.

Alya saw Marinette’s eyes turn to her. They held a trace of doubt – she was unsure how much they should reveal. Because Nathalie did know. Alya didn’t know about Adrien’s affectionately nicknamed driver, but Nathalie definitely did know. How complicit she was, was still in contention, but her knowledge was not. Still, she helped them get into the secret chamber. She showed them the door. She implied that she’d known for a long time, but never said anything.

_Can I condemn her, too?_

Unlike Gabriel, Alya did trust that Nathalie would not harm anyone. Still, she was complicit. Still, she was the closest thing to family Adrien had left, now that Alya had ruined Gabriel. Was the truth worth risking that, too? Another blow to her friend?

Alya sighed and faced Amélie. “Adrien knew nothing.” She answered honestly. “But we don’t know the extent of the staff’s knowledge. I expect the police will interview them and uncover the truth.”

_Not here. This isn’t the time or place for that._

She didn’t lie, though her answer obviously wasn’t her whole truth. She didn’t think Amélie knew that, though. “It was lovely to meet you, Amélie. And, if I may say so, you remind me of Alya a little.”

Amélie beamed. Alya smiled. She meant it as a compliment, of course, but she sincerely hoped that the attributes she referred to – her drive, her courage, her cleverness (Alya thought it was smart to get ahead of the game, asking about the heroes’ future, since she knew the story of Gabriel was already broken by Alya herself. A new story would be much more of a draw than a rehash of the same stuff Alya wrote.) – were all that Amélie resembled her in. She did not love herself, at that moment, enough to wish someone to be like her.

“Ah, wait!” Amélie called out as Alya and Marinette turned. “One last question, please!”

Alya smiled. “Ladybug said no more.”

“But, is Monsieur Agreste’s son going to be okay? What will happen to him?”

Alya sucked in a breath, freezing on the spot. Marinette patted her shoulder and smiled back at Amélie. “Don’t you worry about Adrien.” Marinette said. She stepped back to the girl and put her hands on her shoulders, leaning over a little to look her in the eye. “I won’t lie and say this won’t be hard on him, but he’s got all of us looking out for him, right?” Marinette grinned conspiratorially. “All of Paris. Losing a parent – even if it’s something like this – is beyond anything I can imagine. I’m blessed not to have been through the experience.” Alya fought the urge to cringe when she saw Amélie tense up and avert her eyes. _It’s something she knows, isn’t it?_

Marinette continued, granting only a short pause for Amélie’s reaction. “But remember that he’s a person too. That’s what we can do. Treat him with respect, and help where you can, just as you would with any other citizen of Paris you find in need.” She smiled. “I promise you, if we all help, he will be okay.”

“But…” Amélie said. “What can I do? I don’t even know him.”

“Keep being brave. Keep being a hero.” Amelie blushed and ducked her head. “Just like Alya, right?” Marinette patted her shoulder and backed away to Alya’s side. “Show Paris an example of who it’s citizens should be. That will help him as it will help everyone.”

Amélie still seemed unsure, so Alya sighed and said. “You have to make sure he knows he’s not alone. If you don’t know him and can’t share that message personally, you just have to go out and make sure _everyone_ knows they’re not alone. Everyone you can. He’ll get the message. I promise.”

Amélie worried her lip and nodded firmly. “Okay. I will! Thank you, Rena Rouge! Thank you, Ladybug!”

The two heroes backed away from the crowd and, once out of earshot of anyone, Marinette smiled at her. “Let’s get you out of here.” She said.

Alya looked to the floor. “My hero.” She retorted.

“Someone needs to save you from yourself.” Marinette glanced back towards the crowd. “But I don’t think I’m the hero of the day.”

Alya set her jaw, refusing to look back. “Let’s hope she lives up to it.”

* * *

The following days were as wild as they were lonely. It wasn’t that she was alone – far from it. But she felt the absence of one person so viscerally that they others couldn’t quite make up the space. She missed him. Deeply and painfully, she missed him. But Alya had not seen Adrien for more than a few moments since their confrontation in his bedroom. Partly because he didn’t seek her, and partly, she was ashamed to admit, she was avoiding places she’d be likely to run into him.

As a distraction, and as her duty, she surfed the web. She tracked everything regarding the takedown of Hawk Moth and the future of the heroes.

Most people wanted them to stay. That was alright. Alya wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to stay with Trixx longer, even if there was so strict need for it. Maybe especially if there was no need for it. That lack of purpose made their friendship feel, to her, like something more. She had always loved him, of course, but now that the mission was gone it was easier to convince herself they were together because they wanted to be – because now if Trixx really wanted rid of her, he could be.

That said, there were many things much less uplifting. Gabriel had been tried and convicted and sent to prison. Adrien lived alone in that house that was already much too big for two. And already the opprobrium of Paris was crashing against his doors. People could not believe he was innocent. They could not believe he knew nothing. And they hounded him, like any good dog chasing after the scent of blood.

But a young girl tried all she could. Alya saw it – she knew to look for it. Defending a stranger on twitter. Blogging speeches and her own attempts to bring people together.

And the girl who wanted to be Alya had no clue just how much Alya wished she were that girl.

Adrien had cut himself off from social media – or, someone had cut him off. Marinette wasn’t clear whether that was his own decision or an intervention when she reported it. So Alya knew he did not see the girl’s attempts to make him feel less lonely. She asked Marinette to show it to Adrien. And Marinette did.

Alya did her own part. She patrolled at night, every night, outside Adrien’s home. She saw Chloé once, Nino another time, but while they went in to speak with him, Alya lingered out of sight. She wouldn’t go any closer without his permission. But, meager as it was, she couldn’t deny herself that little gesture – being present, being alert, protecting him from the wake she left behind. It was the least she could do.

Really, truly, the least.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She hissed, pulling her lip back in a disgusted grimace when she saw the boy in a hoodie holding a spray paint can up to the wall.

The boy cursed and dropped the can, but Alya cut off his escape. “I said,” She repeated, “what do you think you’re doing?”

He crossed his arms and looked away. “Sorry, Rena Rouge.” Alya frowned in surprise. “I know I shouldn’t be here, but he shouldn’t either!” He gestured behind him, to the large house, to the window behind which Adrien (hopefully) slept. “He’s the son of Hawk Moth!”

“And you’d condemn him for that?” Alya asked. She shook her head. There was no malice in her. No threat. Yet still the boy flinched.

“I…” He shook his head. “He’s complicit.”

Alya met his eyes. In them, she found hurt, outrage, frustration. She sighed. She thought she was just stopping a thug, but that wasn’t true. Not entirely. “I recognize you.” She said. She didn’t, really. Not as a person. She had no clue who this boy was. But she knew the look in his eye. She had it, once upon a time. Sometimes, still. “You’re one of the victims, right?”

The boy clenched his jaw tight and nodded stiffly.

“How old are you?”

“Fourteen.”

Alya shook her head once more. Sadly, and slowly. “Listen.” She took the paint can from him and eyed the single red line he’d managed to put on the wall surrounding the Agreste property. “And look.”

His eyes followed her finger to that line.

“I understand how you feel.”

“You don’t understand anything. You’re… you’re a hero. You don’t know.”

“Yes, I do. I was akumatized, too.”

“What?”

Alya nodded. “Look.” She redirected his attention to the line. “I understand. We both know what it’s like. After that, we’re volatile. People are afraid of us. They don’t mean to be, but they are. It’s like if you take one step out of line, you’re a villain again.”

The boy gritted his teeth and clenched his fist. “I did step out of line.”

“Yes. You did. But that’s a different thing.” Alya put a hand on his shoulder. “Look at what you did.” She ordered once more, forcing him to raise his gaze again. “I’m not trying to punish you, or make you feel bad. But you need to understand.” Her voice was soft and gentle and Alya almost felt weird using it. “There are consequences to what we do.”

“I can’t stay in line anymore.” The boy said. His voice broke, and this time he did not look away from the wall. “Hawk Moth is gone, but I’m still treated like I’ll explode, or like I’ll fall apart. And now… I am.”

“Being akumatized was not your fault. Understand me? It wasn’t, but this is. I know it’s hard. I did it, too. But you can’t take it out on people who have nothing to do with it.”

“He… really has nothing to do with it?”

Alya sighed and looked up to the window. “Do you why I’m here?”

“To stop people like me? From tagging the wall, or worse?”

“Yes,” She said, “partly. That was the task I gave myself, because it’s all I can do to make up for what I did to him.”

The boy lifted his gaze past the wall to the house beyond it. “Oh.”

“It will never be enough. But it’s something. And I’ll keep doing something until I can’t anymore. Because I did something that will hurt him forever, so I need to spend forever facing the consequences of what I did.”

“You can’t be that hard on yourself.”

Alya just took a deep breath. “So, you respect us, right? Us heroes?”

“Of course, I do.”

“Then look at what you did.” He lowered his gaze back to it, though this time there was more of a fire in his eyes and he kept stealing glances toward Alya. “And tell me what you’re going to do.”

“I…” He stumbled. “I should tell someone. I’m not sure who. The police? Admit I did it.”

Alya smiled. _Maybe he should, but there’s really no need for that._ “Start simpler.”

“Simpler?”

“Look at what you did. Tell me, what can you do to take responsibility?”

He studied the wall. “I’ll clean it up.” He answered. “I’ll clean it. I can do that, right?”

“Yeah. You can do that.”

“I’ll… I’ll come back in the morning, with stuff. I’ll spend all day here if I have to.”

“Good.” Alya paused. “Just remember. Take responsibility, but don’t punish yourself. This isn’t a punishment. This is you realizing what you did was wrong, and it’s you trying to make up for it. You don’t need to whip yourself for it. Just own it. Recognize that you grew from it.

“And remember that you’re not alone. There is a line you can’t cross. But that line is the same as everyone else’s. Okay? You don’t need to walk on eggshells because you were a victim. And it’s okay if you do fall apart a little. There are people who will help you recover. People who understand. The hardest thing for you, for people like us, can sometimes be ourselves rather than others.” She swallowed her spit roughly. “I know that for me, I thought the same as you. Everyone was watching me, waiting for me to break down. But you know who was watching me more than anyone? You know whose judgement I was really afraid of?”

“Whose?”

“Myself. And my own.” She met his eyes and smiled warmly at him. “It’s hard. I know it is. But feeling is human. Do what you can to not let what Hawk Moth did take that from you. It’s okay to feel bad. It’s okay to fall apart. What matters,” she gestured once more to the ugly red line on the wall, “is what you do to pick yourself up again. Okay?”

“Okay.” The boy echoed. He furrowed his brow as he stared at the wall.

Alya smiled and backed away. Before she could take off, his voice stopped her. “Rena Rouge.” She turned, saw him fiddling with the hem of his hoodie. He had turned to face her. Then, he surged forward and hugged her. She huffed a little from the surprise impact, but gently wrapped her arms around him, too. “Thank you.”

She rubbed his back for half a moment and then he released her.

As she turned once more to leave, he said, “It’s not your fault, you know.” She was perched on top of the wall when she stopped to look back at him curiously. “I know that telling everyone about Hawk Moth hurt him. But that’s not the same as this.” He gestured to the red line beneath her. He spoke quickly, frantically. Like he was scared to say the words coming out of his mouth. “Hawk Moth was the bad guy. It’s not your fault if my parents get mad at me for doing this.” He once again pointed to the line. “And if they get mad at you, well, then they just have it backwards. It’s my responsibility, right? Just like Adrien was his.”

Alya hesitated. She stared, dumbstruck at the boy. She closed her eyes. “It’s a little more complicated than that.” She said. _Adrien is my friend._ “But thank you. You’re right.”

She raised herself to leave again and he interrupted her one last time. “Rena… I, uh… just… thank you, again. I’m glad you stopped me. And… I’m glad I met you. Thanks for talking to me.”

She smiled at him and left without another word.

* * *

 

She was curious, so she did go by the Agreste place the next morning. Not as Rena Rouge, but as Alya. The boy was doing exactly what he said he would and was scrubbing at the wall with a determined look on his face. He wasn’t making much progress, but he was focused and didn’t show any sign of slowing down.

She almost went over to help him – a few others had stopped to do so, despite his insistence that it was his fault anyway, that he had put it there, but she held back when she saw Adrien himself come around the corner and walk up to the little group.

Not wanting him to catch sight of her, she positioned herself where he most likely wouldn’t look, and wouldn’t see her on a casual glance across the street, and watched as he talked to the boy.

She didn’t know what was said between them, but she knew Adrien and she knew Adrien wouldn’t be angry at him. And later that very day, when she was going through her social media from the safety of her bedroom, she saw a post that made her smile.

It was the boy, Leo, apparently and Adrien, both smiling, both holding large paint brushes that they were using to paint over the red line. Somehow, the little line had turned into a whole community thing. There were way more people around than were called for, considering the line was barely more than a single stroke. But people were together and Adrien was smiling in a way she hadn’t seen in a long time and she was happy for it.

It felt good, knowing she was at least indirectly involved in that.

But Leo didn’t stop with just that. He started going around helping people, just like Amélie had. Anything from helping old people cross the street to shouting in those streets to try to let everyone know they were not alone.

More than once, she saw him painting the wall around Adrien’s home. Once, as Alya, she approached him, asked him about it (he didn’t know who had tagged the wall, but he was taking it upon himself to help Adrien – after talking to him he truly believed that Adrien was as good of a person that Alya knew him to be) and grabbed a brush herself to help him in his task.

Strangely enough, Amélie had shown up that day, too. And her excitement at meeting _the_ Alya Césaire was a wonder to behold.

They were two young kids who were doing their best to make their city a better place, and Alya could not be prouder, or hold more respect for them.

She was reading one of Amélie’s posts regarding all of the things they were doing when she heard a tapping at her window. Since it was unlocked by habit, and they entered without waiting by habit, she only needed to turn around a moment later to see Chat Noir standing in her room.

She surged to her feet, nearly toppling her chair. “Adrien.” She gasped.

He worried his lip and stared at her rug. Plagg appeared, ending his transformation, and skittered off somewhere with Trixx, muttering about not wanting to watch the waterworks. “Hey, Alya.”

She just stood there, paralyzed, not sure what she should or was allowed to do. She wanted to hug him. She wanted to apologize. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t touch him, couldn’t speak unless he was willing to let her.

“I…” He said. “I… uh. I miss you.”

Her heart hurt, hearing the strain in his voice. “I miss you too.” Her own voice echoed his, but she couldn’t bring herself to be embarrassed.

“I know what you did.” She bit her lip and looked away. “I mean, with Amélie and Leo.”

She sucked in a breath.

“Thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything. Those two did all that themselves.”

Adrien smiled. “That’s not true. Marinette told me what you said to Amélie.”

“Again, it was all her. I only encouraged her.”

“Maybe.” Adrien chuckled. “But I think that was important. And now it’s a lot more than just me who she’s helping.” She still couldn’t meet his eyes. “And I saw you talking to Leo. I saw you catch him when he was trying to tag my place.”

Alya tried to fight the burning in her cheeks. _I thought I kept out of sight._

“You changed his life. Turned it completely around. That’s what he told me, anyway.”

“If a few words was all it took to turn his life around, he’s the one who deserves the praise. That just means _he’s_ really strong.”

Adrien laughed, loudly this time. “I’m going to tell him you said that. It’ll make him happy.”

Alya allowed a wry smirk to find its way to her lips. “Then, by all means.”

“Alya.” Adrien stepped closer to her. “Alya, please.” She felt his hand on her jaw, gently guiding her head back up so that she had to look at him. They stood there for a moment, with him caressing her cheek. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay.” She shook her head, wrenching it from Adrien’s hand. “He’s your family.”

Adrien turned his gaze downwards once again, as did Alya. “But he’s also a criminal.” Adrien said. “And ‘father of Adrien Agreste’ is not a get out of jail free card. You were right to expose him.”

“Adrien…”

He sniffed back his real emotions, but nonetheless when Alya looked at him he smiled. “And…” He choked a little, just for a moment, on his words. “And even if I wish it were different, I don’t blame you.”

“I…” She started. “It wasn’t my place. I shouldn’t hav-”

“No, Alya. Protecting him wasn’t our place.”

“I started all of this.” She said. She had to sniff back her own emotions before continuing. “I’m responsible for you losing your dad. All those people are so cruel to you, because you're Hawk Moth’s son. I’m responsible for that, too. It’s my fault. And I just… I didn’t want to hurt you. Not you.”

“Alya.” Adrien’s eyes went wide as he took her hand in his. “It’s not your fault. And even if it is, so what? Look at what else you did. Look at what Leo’s doing, at what Amélie’s doing. That was you, too. That’s more than enough. For me. If you’re worried about making it up to me, that’s more than enough.”

She shook her head. “It’s not. It’s not enough.”

“It _is_.” Adrien insisted. “I promise. I just want you back. More than anything else.”

“It’s not enough.” Alya repeated. He hugged her, then, unable to stay apart any longer. She buried her head in his shoulder as she cried. “It’s not enough. Not for _me_.” He tried to console her, but she cut him off and backed away, out of his reach, and bumped into her bed and collapsed on it. Sitting on the side, she continued to cry. “I should have talked to you. I should have talked to the team. It wasn’t my place. Not just to turn him in, but to do it unilaterally. It wasn’t my place.”

Adrien joined her on the bed and leaned into her. She only just noticed that he was crying as much as she was. “You should have talked to us.” He said. “You’re right. You should have. But you didn’t. And everyone saw you talk to Amélie. They know what you said to Leo. You’ve more than made up for it.”

“Not to you. Not to them. Not to myself.”

“To _everyone_. To all of Paris. That’s what you told Amélie, isn’t it? We got the message.”

She reached out and grabbed him, hugging him even closer. “I’m sorry.” She whined. “I’m so sorry. I wish you didn’t have to lose him.”

“Me, too. But I have you. Right?” His voice trembled, and his breath was shaky against her collarbone and she couldn’t see his eyes because both of them were tucking their faces into the other but she would hear how fragile he was.

“I never left.” She answered. “Never did. I’ve always been here.”

“Well then don’t go hiding again.”

“I wasn’t hiding. You were upset, you ran out. I didn’t want… I didn’t want to make it worse. I love you, you know? I can’t stand knowing that I hurt you.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have run away.”

“Don’t apologize to _me_. I was the one who did it.”

“Still.” He insisted. “It’s okay. I mean – of course it’s not okay that Dad’s gone, but… it’s okay that you told. It’s okay that they took him. It’s okay that he’s in prison. I just… I just wish he didn’t deserve it. And that’s not your fault.” She held him tighter. “Please, just say we can be friends again.”

“Of course, we are, silly.” She pulled back just a little, to place a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “Of course, we’re still friends.”

She felt Adrien tighten his grip. At this point it was almost painful, but it was so hard to distinguish between the constriction of his arms and the tightness in her chest that she barely even noticed. “I love you too, you know. Nothing hurts more than when you’re not around. _That’s_ what hurts.”

“I just wanted to give you space.”

“I know. And thank you, but… I just missed you. So much.”

“I was never gone, Adrien. But I’ll make sure I stay in sight from here on, alright?”

“Thank you.”

Alya cried into him for much longer, and he into her. She still didn’t quite forgive herself, but she did know one thing for certain. She was not leaving Adrien alone ever again. Because letting each other go was by far the most painful thing either of them could do to each other.


End file.
